’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. John did not see her until the last period. “But—your people!” she gasped. “Oh, Lucy. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. You must know that. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. She was making it up. ‘Ah, grandpére. Stanley,’ I said.
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